Three more books. Oh deary dear. (I still try to convince myself it's all good though, because after all, they were from Oxfam, so, to a good cause.)
- Miscellany One - Dylan Thomas
- Birthday Letters - Ted Hughes ('Later, inside your poems/ Which they wore like gloves, the same hands/ Left big fingerprints. The same/ Inside your last-stand letters/ Which they wore like gloves.' -- From 'The Hands') I have a thing about hands. I have a thing about poems. I have a thing about letters. I have a thing about gloves. & I shall be reading some more of this. (One thing I wonder though, why the capital letters at the beginnings of the lines?)
- A sort of anthology. (Shall not elaborate on this - it seems brand new, barely looked through, and I think it would be ideal for a particular friend as part of their Christmas present. There is a slight problem though - I do want it for myself...)
Really need another bookcase, I really do. I think, however, desperate times call for desperate measures: I shall not be buying any more books until I have read every single book I possess.
Whether this will send me into frequent library visits, pleading friends to borrow theirs, or simply reading a lot more, I don't yet know.
We shall see.
PS A neighbour is trying to train their (presumably new) dog. Most amusing. I can see from the window, and hear. I don't think the dog understands at all.